


World War Corrupted

by coffeefudge



Series: World War Corrupted [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Did I mention drama, Drama, F/F, F/M, Humans, M/M, SO MANY PEOPLE, Too many characters, Trickster vs Humans, Tricksters, Trolls, too many tags, too much drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeefudge/pseuds/coffeefudge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew that just a few candy store burglaries could escalate into a full blow war?</p>
<p>I mean, seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World War Corrupted

Coat tail dragging on the ground, you strut down the brightly, yet messily painted hall, your usual smug expression plastered on your face. You were very happy at the moment. Well, not exactly happy; you were never happy. Maybe, jaunty? No, that wasn't it. Debonair? Well of course you were debonair, you always were. You were the complete definition of the word. How about... Enlivened. Yes, that was it. But why were you enlivened?

"Here you interrogate the prisoner, sir?"

Aw yes, that was why.

"Yes," you said, your smirk seemingly visible in your tone.

When the guard didn't move from his place in front of the cell door, your positive demeanour wavered. You didn't really like this one, he was one of your least favourites. Mostly because he was so confusing. He wasn't so happy and giddy like the rest of the fools that roamed around this place. Which pretty much meant to you that he wasn't as easy to control. And you hated not being in control.

"Move," you ordered harshly, not even waiting for a reply before you knocked him to the ground with the back of your hand.

The moment he hit the floor you stepped over him and pushed open the door, making sure that your coat was fully inside the cell before you slammed the door shut behind you. It was really dark in there, and by dark, you mean pitch black. The only source of light was the continuous flashing of the lining of your coat. It was all the lighting you needed to illuminate the curled up figure in the corner of the damp cell. Smirking, you took your time while walking over him, making sure each step could be heard.

"Don't worry," you cooed softly, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

That was a lie. Every time those words slid off your tongue and into the ears of whatever poor soul you were about to traumatize, it was a lie. You always hurt people. It was just natural instinct for people like you.

"I just want you to send a message for me, okay?" you asked as you knelt down beside the trembling boy, a smirk playing on your lips. "I'm going to free you right afterward so you can deliver it."

This is when you make him realize that you were lying about the not hurting him thing. Your smirk grows as you grab him by the throat, loving the feeling of your fingers digging into the flIesh of his neck, cutting off all air supply. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sound he makes. It sounds like he was a little, new-born kitten that just got hit by a truck. It was so amusing. Using nothing but the hand you have clamped tightly around his neck, you heave him up into a sitting position, pinning him to the wall. You could see the fear in his eyes, making you chuckle once more before you leaned in, whispering in his ear.

"Tell your leader that the time has come for us to take a stand. Tell him, the Tricksters declare war."


End file.
